


Phases of the Moon

by andchaos



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-13
Updated: 2013-10-13
Packaged: 2017-12-29 06:34:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1002115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andchaos/pseuds/andchaos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas a dreamer and Dean is a doer and everything works out just fine.</p>
<p>Plotline and summary and inspiration based on this tumblr post:<br/>http://sadstiel.tumblr.com/post/56632496338/the-universe-in-which-cas-is-a-dreamer-and-dean-is</p>
            </blockquote>





	Phases of the Moon

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for my creative writing class at school. That's why it's relatively short, but anyways...enjoy!

            He barreled through the front door like it had personally wronged him, his bag bouncing against the back of his legs as he kicked the door shut and moved into the kitchen.

            “Cas?” he called out, throwing his keys onto the counter.

            A head of mussed black hair poked around the corner and curious blue eyes searched his face.

            “Hello, Dean.” He sidled up to where Dean was leaning against the counter, arms crossed and eyebrows scrunched, reaching out to smooth the creases in his forehead. “Did you have a bad day?”

            “Nah, nothing I don’t deal with all the time. What about you, man? You seem tenser than usual.”

            “It’s not important.”

            “Oh, that’s very convincing.” He stood up a little straighter, wrapping his hands around Cas’s forearms, grounding him.

            “This is…not where I thought my path was leading,” he said carefully, and Dean dropped his hands, chuckling as he brushed past and dropped into one of the chairs lining the little round wooden table by the window. “What’s so funny?”

            “Nothing. You without a plan, I guess. I never thought I’d see the day.”

            “I have a plan,” he growled, crossing his arms.

            “Do you? I’m just more used to hearing you talk about the future than worry about not having one.”

            “Everyone has a future, Dean, even if it’s unpleasant.”

            Dean rolled his eyes and went to root through the fridge, but when he turned around to ask whether or not there were any leftovers, he noticed Cas sitting in his recently vacated seat, looking strangely shrunken in the overlong coat that he never took off.

            “What’s up, sunshine?”

            Cas’s eyes flicked to his and he started. “I want things to be different.”

            “Yeah, well, they’re not. How old is this chicken leg? Eh, screw it.”

            “I haven’t even properly seen the state, let alone the country, or the rest of this continent.”

            Dean paused, his hands hovering over the microwave’s buttons, and slowly lowered his hands. He crossed the room to where Cas was sitting, staring up at him with his head tilted to the side. He pressed his hip into the table and carded one hand through Cas’s messy hair.

            “We could do it, you know,” he said quietly.

            Cas opened his eyes, blue eyes staring up at him like he had somehow touched the moon and crooked it on its axis.

            “Do what?”

            “Leave. What are we really doing here? Playing at housewife and trying to make friends with the most boring people on the planet? If what’s-her-name next door asks me over for cribbage _one more time_ —seriously, what the hell is cribbage? Does anyone actually know?”

            “It’s a card game, Dean, and we can’t just _leave_. Our whole life—”

            “Oh yeah, my four flannels and that new plastic-covered couch from Ikea. Awesome.”

            “ _Dean_ —” he growled, and Dean withdrew his hand, falling into the chair facing Cas.

            “Okay, I know, that couch is your baby. Whatever. Seriously, why don’t we just go? We can pack a few sandwiches and…see everything. We’ve already got most of our crap in boxes, and it’s mostly junk anyway.”

            Cas sighed and stood fluidly, leaning his elbows on the counter. “What about money?”

            “Odd jobs,” said Dean dismissively. After a second, he too stood, going across the counter and leaning in persuasively. “Come on. You wanted to see the world. We can go all nomadic, go wherever we want.”

            Cas cast around for a different complaint, although he would probably call it practicality. “Won’t we get bored?”

            “Not really,” said Dean quietly, barely brushing the tips of Cas’s fingers with his own. “The music will be awesome. And there’ll be you.”

            Cas shifted his eyes away, flicking them between the bag Dean had dropped next to his feet and their hands, splayed out on the counter, separated by an atom. He could feel Dean searching his face, determinedly silent, and after a few seconds he let out a long exhale and tangled their fingers together over the cool marble countertop.

            “We’d have to sell the house.”

            “Nope. My parents paid off the mortgage a few decades ago like good Southern gentlefolk.” He grinned. “We can just take the essentials and call this a home base. Or give it to Sam. Newlyweds will need a bigger place than that crappy apartment, and the Santa Clara rent is ridiculous anyway.”

            Cas smiled. He rarely did, but it was bright and dazzling, as though the stars had fallen from their perches and landed at his feet, and he had swallowed them all down, hiding their brilliance in a secret meant only for him and Dean.

            “We could go see your brother first. California is supposedly beautiful this time of year.”

            “Oh yeah? Where next?”

            “I don’t know. I could get a globe and we could do that thing where we spin it and go where it stops.”

            “This isn’t a goddamn chickflick, Cas, and my car can only travel on land. Think this continent.”

            He scowled briefly before suddenly jumping up straight, and with a hasty _I’ll be right back_ , he dashed from the room. When he returned a few minutes later,  Dean was slumped against the counter, eating the chicken from the microwave and pulling faces.

            “What are you doing?” he asked, but Cas shushed him as he spread the scroll of paper across the counter, unceremoniously shoving away Dean’s dinner in the process.

            “Close your eyes,” he instructed, and though Dean cast him a disgruntled look, he complied as soon as he saw Cas doing the same. “Tell me when to stop.”

            “Okay, fine…Stop.”

            They both opened their eyes, staring down at where Cas’s finger was pressed against the map.

            “Where is that? Is that Florida?”

            “That’s Quebec, Dean.”

            “Shut up! I’m upside-down.” He stared at Cas for a bit, who was standing completely frozen, one hand still covering part of Canada. “So. Quebec?”

            Cas relaxed, his hand dropping, and started to move away from the counter. He repeated the word, testing it on his tongue.

            Dean grinned, not shifting from his position by the counter. “You’re seriously going to do this?”

            Cas tilted his head again, studying him. “Of course, Dean. Why? Have I done something to lessen your faith in me?”

             “No! No. You’re just never this…blatantly impulsive.”

             “I am…curious about the world. Perhaps you’ve rubbed off on me. Do you need to pack?”

            They both needed ten minutes to grab a few different pairs of jeans and enough snacks to keep them satiated for a few weeks, though possibly less because Dean had a secret addiction to Teddy Grahams and that was half the stockpile. Dean hefted Cas’s load out his arms once they were outside, throwing it all in one big mess in the trunk of his car, leaving Cas to lock the door to the house and flick on the porch light before sliding into the passenger seat. Dean climbed into the driver’s side seconds later, winking at his companion as the car rumbled to life and he shifted it into reverse.

            Cas’s hand found his as they backed into the street and switched to drive, silently entwining in the dark quiet of the car. The night resettled around them, the air layering into a warm peacefulness that pushed against their shoulders and turned everything drowsy and serene. Cas hummed appreciatively at the comfortableness, at least until Dean flicked on the radio.

            “Can we really do this? Can we really…make this work?”

            “Of course. The music is awesome. And there’s you.”


End file.
